


11 – Loud

by Banashee



Series: Keep Going (KeGo) December 2019 [11]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, Deaf Clint Barton, Depression, Insecure Clint Barton, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: It's ironic really, how so much of Clint's life is muffled and almost completely silent, while the inside of his head is loud and overwhelming.
Series: Keep Going (KeGo) December 2019 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558123
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	11 – Loud

**Author's Note:**

> This is part eleven of this small writing challenge that @Banana_Ink and I cooked up.  
> Basically, we came up with 24 prompts, which means 24 stories for 24 days in december. A way to cope with NaNoWriMo trauma, but also something short, sweet and relaxed to keep up a writing habit without stressing too much.
> 
> Check out the prompts, and most of all @Banana_Ink as well! She will be writing for her BNHA AU.
> 
> https://banashee.tumblr.com/post/189288814786/keep-going-december-kego

**11 – Loud**

It's ironic really, how so much of his life is muffled and almost completely silent, while the inside of his head is loud and overwhelming. There is that one part of his brain that never shuts up, always whispering things to him. Things that may or may not be true, but it's always things that hurt.

“ _No one really needs you. They will be fine without you.”_

“ _You're useless.”_

“ _This is your fault. You always fuck up, no matter what.”_

“ _You should stop trying. Just eat a bullet and be done with it.”_

“No brain, shut the fuck up.”

But it's too late, the doubts and the self-hatred are long burned into him. He tries to ignore them – to keep busy is his favorite tactic of distraction. Doing his job, helping people, being a good person – or as good as he knows how. It helps, for a short while. People smile and he laughs along, jokes and hopes that at least some of it actually reaches his eyes.

The other thing is, when he's not wearing his comm units, which double as in-field hearing aids, he misses most of what's going on around him, because his everyday ears are not nearly as high tech.

If he asked Tony to help him come up with something, he'd probably do that in a heartbeat and scoff why he didn't ask sooner. But the truth is, Clint doesn't want to constantly remind people of his weak spots. Being one of the very few “regular humans” on his team is enough most days – he doesn't need to shove his faults and weaknesses in peoples face, and he doesn't want to.

But another truth is, some days he isn't making much of an effort in reading lips or body language. When a mission or somebody else's safety depends on it, sure, any time without a question. But when he's not in the field? It's exhausting, and it takes up a lot of energy, just trying to follow the five different conversations that take place on the dinner table where everyone talks and laughs and yells over each other.

For Clint, it sounds like a muddled mess, impossible to make out words, let alone full conversations. But he acts along, hoping to nod or laugh in all the right places without making a fool of himself.

When he finally gets home, he locks the door.

Usually, he'd leave it unlocked, knowing that Kate or Nat or any of his neighbors might come by for... Whatever it is that they want.

But on those days, when everything inside of his head is just too loud and too much, he can't stand the thought of anyone walking in on him anytime they please.

It's those days where he ends up curling up in bed, or when it's a really bad day, sitting on the cold floor for hours, with Lucky on his lap and both arms wrapped around his loyal dog, probably the only creature left on this earth that truly loves him.

Lucky won't ever tell when there are silent tears dripping into his thick fur, and he stays close to his human, pressing himself against him, resting his chin on his knee or shoulder, affectionately licking any bit of skin that's in reach, in an attempt of comfort.

Clint runs his hands through the soft, golden fuzz, praising Lucky for being a good boy, telling him how much he loves him.

Sometimes, he thinks the dog just might understand his words.


End file.
